


A Favor Performed Is A Debt Repaid

by IShockJockey



Category: BioShock, BioShock Infinite
Genre: Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-15 01:54:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2211333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IShockJockey/pseuds/IShockJockey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Booker returned to his normal routine, he strode to become a better father for Elizabeth, and his...lifestyle...doesn't exactly make that easy. But the Luteces call on him once more, to aid them in their research of the tears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Favor Performed Is A Debt Repaid

      Booker sat at his desk, situated at the end of his office, the fan in the corner spinning lazily as light spilled through the dirty shades behind him. His badge lay off to the side, his number emblazoned on it, reflecting the little light in the room. He was currently staring down the whiskey bottle sitting across his desk, just waiting for him to reach out and guzzle it down. Turning in his chair, he spun to face the window, lest he toss the bottle across the room. On any other day, he'd either be out on a case, or drowning his sorrows in liquor. But, there was a reason he wasn't doing either of those. 

"Waaaaaaaaaah"

And that would be it. 

      Standing, he smoothed his crumpled, dark blue vest as he unholstered his gun and placed it on the desk. He knew how to handle firearms- though he promised himself he'd never let Anna around weapons. To the best of his ability, he'd protect her- the insane dream he'd had made him realize that. He saw things there, things that were just too impossible to _actually_ exist. A lot of things could be said about Booker DeWitt, and he was nothing if not true to his word- he stopped drinking (most of the time), and he even began looking for another line of employment. (Given his track record, not many were hiring...). Gently pushing open the door to Anna's room, he carefully stepped in, not wanting to disturb the crying infant even more. Plucking the bundle from the crib, he cradled her in the crook of his arm, the sobbing reducing almost immediately. 

"Shhh" he hushed, bouncing her gently. 

Anna's crying was soon replaced with giggling, bouncing in her father's arm as she was carried into the next room. 

      Placing his hands beneath her arms, he lifted her, sending the child into another round of laughter as he stared into her blue eyes. 

 _'Say 'rifle''_   he thought sarcastically. 

       Brushing the whiskey bottle into a desk drawer, he set Anna across the desk, allowing her to fiddle with various objects strewn across his workspace (minus his pistol, of course). The young girl then amused herself with his badge, gazing curiously at the numbers across the gold-plated object. Unconsciously smirking to himself, he pulled a folder from the file drawers behind him. Opening it, he casually scanned it, searching for anything that might offer him remote interest. It was odd, he thought, that he hasn't had any cases lately; there was always at least one waiting around the corner, especially with all the strikes and riots going on. 

He shuddered.

      Another part of his past he was determined to keep buried. Though, the little bundle on his desk was going to make it that much harder...

      Taking the badge from Anna, much to her displeasure, he shoved it into his pocket, mindful of his weapon. She pouted, staring at him with all her might. 

"No dice kid" Booker said, his impenetrable mentality wearing down her look. 

Her lower lip quivered, her eyes watering as her pleading look turned to one of distress. 

 _'Oh, damn it'_ he groaned inwardly, picking her up before she burst into tears. 

He cradled her once more, humming as she wriggled in his grasp. 

 _'If only the guys at the bar could see me now...'_ he thought, somewhat amusing himself with the idea. 

      Crossing the room, he took a bottle out of a bag sitting near the door, the covered bottle containing formula. He presented it to her, and she happily suckled at the nipple, quickly draining it of its contents. Pacing the room, he waited for her to finish, quiet dominating the space within the four walls. Finally, she clumsily pushed the now-empty bottle away, indicating she was full. Setting the bottle down, he put her over his shoulder as he patted her back. He was rewarded with a small belch as he re-entered Anna's room. Walking to the crib, he set her down, reapplying the blankets surrounding her. The baby snuggled into the warm sheets, cooing happily. With just the two of them, he bent over, gently kissing her forehead, the stench of alcohol on its way out. 

 _"Sleep tight Anna, I love you"_ he whispered. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying to write Booker's character, let me know if you think it's a bit off, I'm still trying to pin it down.


End file.
